Falling
by OtterPotter
Summary: They had gotten used to the bus ride to Sky High. The technology for the bus was perfect, invincible. Or was it? Death cannot stop true love, it can only delay it for awhile.
1. Falling

**I really didn't know I could write stories like this. I guess when I'm unhappy the characters that I am writing with suffer. This one has been in my head for awhile, but I really hadn't meant to make it this depressing. It should be interesting to see how it turns out. It is told from Will's point of view.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it-now stop bothering me.**

There was a newspaper on the counter. Its headline proclaimed, '**Students Killed in a Tragic Bus Accident'**. The article went on to talk about the how the bus had somehow swerved from its normal route, and fell off an unfinished bridge. The accident proved fatal for all of the people in the bus, including its driver. The newspaper did not know about the one survivor.

_Many hours earlier…_

It was a typical Monday morning. I was sitting next to Layla, as usual. Everyone was half asleep, probably from the fact that it was Monday, and many people had stayed up late cramming for some type of test. As we approached the 'Road Ends' sign, I braced myself. I hated the feeling of falling; there was always a small doubt in my head that wondered if just maybe, the jets wouldn't work.

And we were falling. Layla smiled at me, she had long since gotten used to this. It took everyone in the bus about two minutes to realize that something was wrong. The jets in the bus had not kicked in yet. We were falling, and we could not stop. We were going to die. Of course there was no plan, no way to exit. The whole design for the bus was the latest technology. You'd have to be really good with technology in order to break it. It should have been invincible.

Everyone was screaming, and I looked at Layla. She had tears running down her cheeks. For some reason I took her hand. I had this uncontrollable need to comfort her, to take away her hurt, because her hurt was also hurt to me, even though I was terrified. We were going to die. It ran through my head over and over. The ground was so close; we were going to hit it.

"Will," Layla said, just loud enough so that I could hear here over the screams, "I love you."

Realizing full well that we were going to die in a half a second, I said, "I love you too." At that time I didn't even know it myself until I said it. I love her, and it's too late for all of us.

Ten seconds. I put myself over Layla as a shield, a cover. Five, four, three, two, one. The bus hit the ground with a shuddering boom and exploded. I made a hole out of the wreckage, which was now on fire, pulling Layla out with me. Emergency vehicles were by the bus at this time, or what was left of the bus, trying to find survivors. My mom and dad were here already. But I took little notice of them, and focused my attention on Layla, whom I was holding. She wasn't breathing. Tears streamed down my face. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. She wasn't breathing.

From that day on, no one has figured out why I survived the crash. I wished it was someone else, and not me. So much of my friends had died. Good and bad, the people on that bus died. Even though I was a survivor, I didn't live. I had died with the others there, died with Layla. I'm only a shell of who I used to be; the only emotion I have left is sadness.

I visit Layla's grave every day now, for hours at a time. I plant seeds, flowers, bushes, trees, and anything I can. I know she would have liked it, would have laughed at the apple tree I had planted, and the one in my back yard that will grow up to my bedroom window. All the while I try to control the sharp pain in my chest and the bitter tears.

I know she wouldn't want me to live like this, I could hear her voice saying, "Just go, Will. Just live, Will." But the truth was that I couldn't go on. I had lost something beautiful, someone who was the most amazing person I had ever met. The first girl that I was truly in love with. How could I just go? How could I move on?

**I know the whole bus blowing up wasn't all that accurate, but whatever. Review please.**


	2. Reflection

**Ok, I know this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I had more ideas. So sue me (not really). As of right now there are going to be three parts or chapters in this story. The first chapter was named Falling, this chapter is named Reflection, and the third is named Coma. Enjoy! **

… **Dun, dun, dun… (Cue dramatic music)…**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own it. **

**The point of view is a character that I own (mwuahahaha) named Lily. She is 14 years old and has no powers, just a normal civilian.**

It was a beautiful summer day. The sky was the perfect shade of blue, and there was a breeze that balanced out the heat brought by the sun and season. I decided to bike over to my favorite place, the gardens, which was only a short ride from my house. There was a bike rack outside the fence, right by the sign that proclaimed 'Layla Gardens'. I locked my bike, went in through the fence, and dropped some money in the donations box. The owner of the garden property did not charge people to visit, although I thought that they should. The garden was fascinating. By every single plant there was some kind of plaque saying what it was and the reason it was in the gardens. The reason was not always very well explained. For instance, by the honeysuckle vines the plaque read 'Smells nice', which explains it well enough, but the plaque by the apple tree was confusing. It said, 'When life gives you lemons, make apple juice.'

Another interesting thing about the garden was the grave at the heart of the garden. It was the grave of the girl who the Garden was named after, Layla. According to the inscription she had she had died quite awhile ago, but at my age. I stopped awhile to study the grave and give my respect before moving on. It was terrible how someone could die so young, with so much life and love ahead of them.

The thing that fascinated me the most was the owner of the garden. He lives in a house past a pond that was a little away from the grave. I had seen him, but never actually talked to him. He was probably in his mid-sixties, and I realized with a jolt that he could have been the same age as the person who had died. I always had thought that they family had sold the property to someone who could take care of it, but maybe he knew the girl, knew Layla. That would make more sense of why he worked with such dedication, even though he was the only worker in this large garden.

I was looking into the pond when I realized there was someone behind me. I turned around to see the owner of the garden.

"Hello," I said, "I'm Lily."

"Will Stronghold," he replied, shaking my hand, "can I answer any questions about the garden? I know some schools have reports and projects about the garden."

"I'm not here for a school project, I just love it here. It's so beautiful. I do have some questions though." Maybe I could figure out the mystery of Layla.

"Well, I'm probably the best person to answer them. Go ahead."

"What is the story of this garden?"

"We better sit down, it's a long story." He led me to a bench a little ways over.

"You know about superheroes right?" I nodded and he went on. "Well, there's a school for them. I used to go to that school, a long time ago. My parents were the most famous superheroes in this town at the time, the Commander and Jetstream. Since the school is in the sky, and constantly moving, the only way to get there is by flying school buses. My best friend Layla also went to my school. She had been my best friend since first grade. She had the power to control plants. She had the most beautiful soul out of anyone I had ever met. She was beautiful, red hair and brown eyes, she always had her hair up in someway that was unique, and she always wore green. She was special.

"One day instead of flying the bus just fell. I later found out that is was the girl that I had a crush on-who turned out to be the super villain Royal Pain-that had messed with the technology on the bus so that it wouldn't work. Layla and I were sitting next to each other. I had other friends on the bus as well. We all knew that we were going to die, and Layla told me that she loved me, and I realized that I loved her and told her it back. When the bus hit the ground it exploded, and for some reason I survived. Everyone else died, including Layla.

"It destroyed me. For over five years I didn't talk to anyone, and ate almost nothing. I spent all of the time I could visiting Layla's grave, planting whatever I could. I finished school, found Royal Pain, and put her behind bars. The school gave me a large amount of money, which I used to buy this property and build a house. Every plant in this garden reminds me of her and has a meaning."

By this time we were both crying. He handed me a handkerchief. I felt a bond with him from him sharing his story with me. It was such a sad story.

"You should write that story down, so that it can be remembered forever." I said.

"It sounds like a good idea, but I wouldn't be able to do it alone."

"I can help you. And I can help take care of the garden. I have always loved plants."

"Alright, it sounds like a deal," he said, almost smiling. I was glad to bring some joy to him after all that he had been through.

**End of Part Two. Coming up: Part Three-Coma. Review please! **


	3. Coma

**Here is the last and final installment in this three part story.**

**Disclaimer- It hasn't changed. Don't own it. Except for Lily-she's all mine. That sounded weird. Anyways, onto the story. **

**Part Three- Coma**

**Lily's POV**

Will and I had finally finished the book. The story of the garden. It wasn't very thick, but just thick enough. It was published, but with only three copies, none yet available to the general public. One copy for Will, one copy to be kept in the garden in a case to be opened on the day of Will's death, and one copy for me. The story was named Layla's Garden.

(Will's POV)

I was sick and old. I was finally going to die. I wasn't afraid of death. I had already died in the crash, being slightly brought back by Lily's kind spirit, who was like a daughter to me. I had left her everything in my will including the garden, having no other family and friends left. I was calm, now, as I closed my eyes and waiting for my breathing (which was not coming easily) to stop. I slipped away.

. . . . . . .

. . . . . . . .

. . . . . . .

When I opened my eyes I felt pain everywhere. Isn't nothing supposed to hurt when you're dead? I was in a room on a bed. I recognized it as a hospital. They have hospitals in heaven? I must be alive. I looked at my body, I was young. What happened?

Just then someone entered the room, a nurse.

"Good, you're awake. I'll notify your family."

What? Before I had time to ask a question she was gone, and soon three people ran into the room. The first two were my mom and dad.

"Will, you're awake!" My mom cried.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You were in a coma," My dad said.

"You hit your head too hard on the wall when Coach Boomer had the stage throw you against the wall. He almost got fired." Layla spoke up from the side of the room. Layla, it was so good to see her.

"How long have I been out?" I asked her.

"About a week," she replied, and for the first time I realized they were all crying.

After awhile, my mom and dad went to get something to eat. I asked Layla to stay, and she moved a chair right next to my bed.

"I was so afraid you weren't going to wake up," She said.

"I didn't realize I had something to wake up to, I lived out a life in a dream. Well, a nightmare, really." I told her. Layla waited expectantly. I didn't go on to explain it though, and she must have understood that it was something I wasn't ready to talk about yet. We sat awhile in silence, and then I finally got the courage to say something I really needed to say.

"There has been one good thing that has come out of this," I said, throwing caution to the wind.

"What's that?" She asked, interested.

"It made me realize that you can't take life for granted. You can't spend your whole life oblivious to how you feel, or waiting for the right moment to say what you're feeling. Because more often than not, you're not going to notice and appreciate what you really have until it's gone. And I'm not going to live like that any longer. Layla, I love you."

She sat silently for a moment, and I fearfully wondered if maybe she only loved me in the dream. But then she took my hand, and I knew it was going to be alright.

"I love you too, Will."

……………………………………………………..

_A few days later_

They kept me in the hospital for a little while longer, but they finally let me home. As soon as I was home, I called Layla over. I was ready to talk about what had happened to me while I was in a coma. My mom and dad left us alone, and we sat in the living room where I told her about my dream, and we held each other while I explained and we both cried. I'm still surprised on how the dream had felt so real. And I wasn't deluding myself into loving her because of my dream; my subconscious simply helped me to realize that I could lose her. I had also loved her, but never realized it. She was something solid, always there. I had never thought that I could lose her before.

I went into my bedroom for the first time this week, ready to be alone, shower and sleep and forget that the whole coma didn't happen, and just living this life, my life, instead of worrying that the dream might come true. I shuffled through the mess on my desk, trying to find the things I would need for school the next day. As I was looking I found a small leather bound book. I looked at it more closely. On the cover it said 'Layla's Garden'. I flipped it open to find a note beautifully written in handwriting I did not recognize. It said 'Carpe Diem- L.M.T.'

**It got less depressing! Yay! Yes, I know I'm leaving you at a cliff hanger, but not to fear- there will be a sequel…If I get more reviews (hint, hint). **

**I'd like to dedicate this story to Margaret, thanks for always being there for me, and the reviews. I'd also like to dedicate this story to anyone who has gone through the pain and suffering of loss and knows what it feels like to have a part of you die.**

**Thanks for reading and sticking with me (now please review!) - OtterPotter**


End file.
